You're Stronger Than You Know
by ltleopard
Summary: Dean is hurt and Cas wants him to get well soon. Destiel.


**Title:** You're Stronger Than You Know  
**Author:** **ltleopard  
****Rating:** PG for ~*~blood and gore~*~  
**Disclaimer:** _Supernatural_ doesn't belong to me (because if I had my way, everybody would be having sex with everybody and everything would be beautiful and nothing would hurt).  
**Pairing:** Dean/Cas  
**Summary:** Dean is hurt and Cas wants him to get well soon.  
**Author's Note:** First time writing for the _Supernatural_ fandom, har har. I asked for prompts and **lieutenant_nona** threw this one at me so. It's schmoopy and not as Destiel-y as I would have liked it to have been, but w/e w/e I like it...kind of. I think it stops a little too abruptly, so if anyone's got any ideas, PM me. Other than that, honest criticism and constructive feedback are greatly appreciated!

* * *

Dean staggered and half-fell, leaning against the Impala for support. He hissed as the wound in his shoulder pulsed with pain, sluggishly pumping out blood. Damn it, this was supposed to be an easy hunt.

Still leaning against the Impala, he set the shotgun in his right hand against the door and pressed his palm to the ragged injury, half-heartedly trying to staunch the blood. He knew that medical attention was probably a good idea, but fuck if he couldn't summon up the energy to drive back to the motel.

"Dean."

Dean started, slipping farther down the door of the Impala. "Fuck, Cas, I thought we agreed that you wouldn't do that anymore."

"I do not recall such a conversation. Dean, you're hurt."

Mustering a weak chuckle, Dean succumbed to the lure of gravity, sliding the rest of the way down the door of the Impala to sit on the ground, leaning his head back against the car and looking up at Cas.

"Yeah. Fuckin' ghosts. You'd think they'd realize when their time is up and go quietly, you know? But this one decided to take a chunk out of me before it went."

He shook his head and muttered again, so faintly that Cas, with perfect angel hearing, had trouble hearing him

"Fuckin' ghosts."

Then Dean fainted, chalk-white under his freckles.

* * *

The first thing he saw when he woke was the water-stained ceiling of their motel room. He scrunched his nose in disgust and attempted to move, before a spike of pain reminded him of his shoulder injury. Sam's worried face appeared as he shifted, hovering over him like a mother hen.

"Dude, what the fuck. I thought this was supposed to be an easy hunt. You almost bled out!"

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam patted anxiously at his bandaged shoulder. "Oi, bitch, gerroff me. I'm fine, okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes right back and replied, "Oi, _jerk_, I don't think you get it. You almost _died_, okay? Lucky thing Cas was there."

Dean turned his head, searching the empty room for the elusive angel. "Where _is_ Cas, anyway?"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "He poofed in–y'know, like he does–and dropped you here, then said something about having something else to do and disappeared again. Haven't seen him since."

Sam prodded Dean's bandaged shoulder once more and remarked, "Speaking of something else to do, this needs to be re-bandaged. I'll have to go get some more. Dean, I'm serious. Don't move before I get back."

Dean rolled his eyes again, watching Sam grab his wallet from a pair of jeans hanging over the back of one of the motel's chairs before leaving the room. He sighed heavily, immediately bored, and wondered if Sam had left the TV's remote lying somewhere near him.

After checking the bedside tables and the foot of the bed, he concluded that Sam had hid it from him–_that bastard_–and settled back to wait for Sam to get back with the new bandages.

"Dean."

Dean jerked, biting off a cry of pain that threatened to escape as he jarred his injured shoulder.

"Cas, God, would you _quit doin' that_? Scares the hell out of me every time."

Cas frowned. "I thought we discussed the blasphemy issue, Dean."

Dean shrugged his uninjured shoulder and smirked at the angel. "'I do not recall such a conversation.'"

Cas looked as if he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes. Dean grinned at him before noticing the plastic Wal*Mart bag in the angel's hands. "What've you got there, Cas?"

Cas suddenly looked nervous. "I have been reading up on what humans usually do when someone they care about is hurt. I picked up a few things."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Well, let's see 'em, then."

Almost shyly, Cas reached into the Wal*Mart bag and pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers and a Hallmark "Get Well Soon" card, handing them to Dean.

Surprised, Dean buried his nose in the sunflowers to hide laughter, then looked at the card. The front had a small boy wearing a superhero cape, striking a pose, and read Flex 'Em If You Got 'Em. His mouth twitched as he turned to the inside. And you got 'em! Hang in there. You're stronger than you know.

Dean closed the card and bowed his head, struggling not to laugh.

Cas shuffled his feet and said quietly, "I thought you might appreciate the humour in the wording."

At this statement, Dean gave up on trying not to laugh and started to chuckle, setting the flowers and card down on the bed.

"Cas…this is really…really nice. Thanks, man."


End file.
